melt away--a word, a look, a gesture from Martin and the heart in
her would flood with forgiveness; but the look did not come, the
word was unuttered.

He was squandering, she continued to observe, sufficient evidence
of his interest at the feet of this child who never would have
missed it, while she, herself, who could have lifted mountains
from her breast with one tenth of this appreciation, was left, as
she always had been left, without the love her being craved, the
love of a mate, rising full and strong to meet her own. It was a
yearning that the most cherished of children could never satisfy
and as she watched Martin and Rose her position seemed to her to
be that of a hungry pauper, brought to the table of a rich
gourmand, there to look on helplessly while the other toyed
carelessly with the precious morsels of which she was in such
extreme need. And what rankled was that these thoughts were
futile, that too much water had run under the bridge, that it was
her lot in Martin's life merely to accept what was offered her.
She knew that the marks of her many hours of suppressed anguish,
thousands of days of toil and long series of disappointments were
thick upon her. She realized, too, how ironical it was that with
all her work she should have grown to be so ungainly although
Martin retained the old magnetism of his gorgeous physique. There
was no doubt that if he chose, he could still hold a woman's
devotion. Yes, for him there was an open road from this gray
monotony, if he had the will and the courage to escape.

Suddenly, she found herself wondering what effect all this would
have on Bill. She stole a surreptitious glance at him, but he,
too, seemed to have been caught up by Rose's gay, good humor.